Freedom Sliced Away
by Skylark Evanson
Summary: I was bound and tied down, no escape route in sight and they were cutting off my wings.


**A/N: Just another one-shot that I wanted to get done. I'm not happy with how it's written, but I couldn't see anything that I really wanted to improve on when I edited… Sorry. Max's POV.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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I felt the tape across my mouth, sticky against my skin. It was the only thing keeping me quiet.

Cold, steel cuffs held my wrists together. I tried to pull them apart, only to be met with surprising resistance. I always had had a hard time shredding metal. Inhuman strength usually came in handy, but sometimes it felt completely useless. I tried to pull my wrists apart again only to feel the icy metal drive into my skin when I couldn't pull my hands apart.

So I stopped that approach. I looked to my ankles only to see the same metal bonds there too. Looked like I wasn't going to be getting out of there any time soon.

I felt a knife drive into my back, the sharp blade hacking at the place where my wing was. My senses hadn't picked up the presence of another person in the room. I had just assumed I was along. Wrong assumption.

A scream flew from my lips only to be trapped by the sticky tape. I was bound and tied down, no escape route in sight and they were cutting off my wings. My wings.

I felt the knife drive a little harder into my back. Another scream was caught in my throat and couldn't escape. I screamed again and again, thrashing what little I could, desperate for anyone to help me. I needed someone, something, anything... so desperately...

And then the knife pulled itself out of my back, searing pain suddenly raging like a fire down he entire length of my body. It felt like the flames were lapping at me with laughter, taunting me because I would soon be helpless and useless.

Then I felt a more painful slash. A bead of sweat was running down my face. Another scream was held captive inside of me. The knife was cutting at the bones that held my wing to my body. It hacked into it as if it were a chainsaw instead of a regular, everyday blade; I was jerked backwards painfully at the motion and I felt my body tugged viciously from the cutting motion. Blood was running like a waterfall down my back.

Sure, I can recover fast, but not if I'm dead first. Losing too much blood is definitely a downside to healing fast because if you don't heal fast enough, it's some serious stuff.

Another hack caught the same bone in the same spot, severing it. I managed to get out a yelp of pain and shock as the pain drilled through me as if a bullet had just driven directly through my chest. And then another hack at my wing. Then another.

It felt like they were slicing away my freedom.

The agony was piercing my soul when another hack finally cut off my wing. Another scream welled up in my throat along with tears that dribbled down my cheeks, but I knew my wing was gone. I was suddenly off balance, lopsided. It felt like half of my heart had suddenly vanished that my life was no longer worth living. I felt so completely useless. Blood kept spilling out of my body.

And then they were hacking at my other wing.

As if taking the first one wasn't enough, they had to have my other one too. My wings had literally become my life. I was born with them. I expected to die with them and possibly because of them, but I wasn't in the mood to deal with some maniac ripping them off of me. I wasn't even sure what I did wrong, but I just woke up in this Hell where someone was slowly but surely killing me.

The knife sliced at my thin, lightweight bird bones. I felt the pain blow through my body and tried to pretend like I was in some sort of sick, twisted nightmare. I wanted to wake up; I just had to wake up, that was all.

Another hack was thrown at my wings and it was sliced in the same place. I could already feel my wing separating from my body. The pain. The pain. It hit me like a gun. At this point, I would've been glad to be shot instead of feeling my other wing fall off.

One more slash and it was gone as well; tears poured down my face. My freedom, my life, my fight. It was all dead now. I was practically dead. My wings had controlled everything. It had made me a runaway. They had turned me into a freak and that had been how I grew up. Now... Now that life was gone. Without my wings... I was just another kid...

They had sliced away my freedom and left me there to die.

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**A/N: Wow, that's really bad writing now that I look back on it. I did horrible… Anyways, feel free to review despite my cruddy workmanship.**

**~Sky**


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